


Sunday Mornings

by autolatry



Category: DCU
Genre: Fluff, Kinda, M/M, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autolatry/pseuds/autolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'His relationship status with Richard Grayson really wasn't something he liked dwelling on. It made everything complicated, but didn't that sum up his life entirely?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Mornings

Jason sniffed, calloused palms heating on the chipped ceramic of his mug. The instant coffee swirled miserably, flecks of brown caught in the overly caffeinated whirlpool. He hated mornings. So would you if you were out until five am on a daily basis, vigilante-ing. He'd managed to score two and a half hours of sleep last night which was a new personal record. The television buzzed in the other room, some broadcaster was explaining the events of the night before. Jason smiled absently at the sound of his alias. According to the news he had been a good boy. Who'd have thought it?

Sipping his coffee, Jason padded his way back to the bedroom. His bare foot bumped a familiar material that caused him to look down, tilting his head to the side with a sigh. Would it kill that circus freak to tidy up after himself once in a while? Jason bent and collected the costume, throwing it over his shoulder as he headed for the window. The sky was still dark and dim, typical for Gotham in winter. It looked chilly outside and Jason was thankful for his in-floor heating. This certainly was one of his nicer safe houses. Less than a week ago he was squatting on the floor of an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. That was certainly no Wayne Manor. Still, it looked like he would be able to stay here for a while, really settle in for once. He hoped so. It was safer to move around constantly, but sometimes a guy just wanted to kick back and relax. 

He placed his mug on the windowsill and fiddled with the costume, straightening it out before folding it neatly and depositing it on the night stand. Retrieving his coffee once more, he took a long drink and shuddered as the hot liquid flooded through him, heating his core and calming his sore muscles. There was a shift from behind him and Jason turned his head toward the bed, huffing a laugh at the sight. Dick was crumpled deep within the blankets, his hair a mused mess and eyes cloudy with sleep. He looked exhausted, if the faded purple bags under his eyes were anything to go by. Nightwing and Red Hood had met last night, literally crashing into each other on a roof somewhere in old Gotham and, well... This wasn't their first hookup and Jason was positive it wouldn't be the last.

Dick made a strangled sound from the back of his throat, stretching his arms above him and cringing at the sound of bones creaking. "Hey." He yawned, snuggling back into the plush pillows. The scars on Dick's chest looked deeper, more recent and painful up against the red fabric of Jason's bedsheets. Somehow his muscular body still managed to make them look good. Dick was a bastard like that. Jason nodded in return, still too tired to communicate properly with anyone. Dick whispered a laugh and stretched an arm out to the space beside him, stroking the mattress tiredly. "Come back to bed."

Once his coffee was drained, Jason pushed the empty mug onto the bedside cabinet and complied with the other man's request. He climbed onto the bed, slipping down into the sheets with a groan. His body ached, spine bruising in ugly black splodges where Harley had caught him off guard. He rolled to his side to make it easier to get comfortable, reaching out his arm to allow Dick to curl into him. The pair entwined their legs and Jason hummed when his face buried into Dick's hair, the smell of blood and rubble and Gotham's familiar night air that he was so accustomed to making him shudder. Jason wasn't sure what this was. It didn't feel right to refer to Dick as a simple hook up like the men and women he picked up in run down bars, but they were far from a couple. His relationship status with Richard Grayson really wasn't something he liked dwelling on. It made everything complicated, but didn't that sum up his life entirely? In truth, he'd take Richard in a heartbeat, but realistically he knew it would never work. Maybe once, but not now. They were too different, too far apart. Jason was too fucked up. But sometimes he liked to pretend, if he was honest with himself. When they tangled together like this, both pressed close enough that they almost became one. He liked to pretend they were something, that they spent every morning like this, not just once every few months after a night of frantic whispers and filthy, desperate fucking. The room stilled until the only sound was the steady, slow breathing from beside him and only then did Jason allow the seductive pull of sleep to take over him. With a gentle sigh, Jason pressed a kiss to Dick's temple, whispered a quiet "Night, Dick.", and drifted off. 


End file.
